Blessed Messiah
by Yuki-Infel
Summary: They met up years later when their old dorm was about to be destroyed, but when the remnant of their dead dorm mate appeared before their eyes as the clock struck midnight, they can only watch as the spectre relived Minato's memory, endlessly trapped within it for eternity. P3 Fes AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Persona Series obviously doesn't belong to me.

 **Warnings:** This is an AU of where P3 The Journey ended differently, angst, past major character death.

 **Author Note:** This fic is loosely based on a song with the same title and a solemn fic for the most part. I promise I'll write happier fics, but it's impossible for the moment :T There will be a sequel, probably.

Without further ado, enjoy!

* * *

 **Blessed Messiah**

* * *

Iwatodai remained the same.

Probably, it was what struck as Akihiko's first impression when Junpei's excited voice woke him up from the headache-inducing jet lag. Both athletes touched down in Japan after coincidentally taking the same plane from the States. Junpei immediately brute forced his way to exchange his seat to an unfortunate girl who sat next to Akihiko, to which the experience would've traumatized her if only she wasn't an avid fan of Junpei's team.

The next twelve hours en route were loud. Understatedly so. Their ceaseless conversation only lulled into sniggers and hushed talks when the stewardess asked them to not disturb the other passengers with a tight smile, but it didn't hold a candle to Mitsuru's glare.

"Man, I miss everyone, even Yuka-tan's bitching." Akihiko tried to mask his laughter into a cough, since the stewardess has been eyeing them and looked ready to throw them out from he plane if it was possible.

"We totally should eat out in the delicious sushi restaurant that Mitsuru-senpai ordered after we-" A blank look passed over Junpei's face and Akihiko shook the younger man worriedly.

"Hey! Snap out of it," Akihiko grumbled.

Junpei scratched his goatee in confusion. "...Err, do you think Mitsuru-senpai ever ordered us big servings of sushi?"

"Nah, it's not like her to do that." The boxer shuddered visibly. "If anything, I'd bet that she has hidden agenda behind her back. Like forcing us to study our ass off or something."

"Ha! Damn true," the former class clown nodded sagely and they settled into companionable silence, bodies stretched out uncomfortably on the small seats. Akihiko yawned, but he remembered something and snapped out from the tempting offer of sleep.

He yawned wider, taking out his backpack under the seat and shook Junpei awake as he rummaged through in search of a pamphlet the Kirijo heiress gave to him before he took the flight. Once he found the crumpled paper, Akihiko gave it to Junpei who smiled in apparent nostalgia as his eyes scanned the paper.

"Wow, can't believe it's been years since graduation, huh." The pro Major League Baseball's top batter smoothed out the edges with calloused hands and grinned. He held out the pamphlet against the reading lamp above him and squinted his eyes.

"...New... doom, ...Uhh, devastation?" Junpei's eyes traced the kanji, cursing his lack of attention to Ms. Toriumi's lesson as he seemed to have forgotten most of the harder ones. He could hear his senior smothered an all out laughter that would have been enough reason to kick them out from the airplane, resting his mouth in his hand to muffle it with his palm.

Junpei felt a vein popped on his forehead in irritation. "Hey! It's not my fault kanji is so difficult to read! Everything should be available in hiragana!" he said irritably, trying to murder the offensive pamphlet with his eyes.

For his trouble, Akihiko took the pamphlet from his hands and read out loud, "New dorm development, Stupei."

"I resent that!"

Akihiko just shrugged good naturedly and studied the information, "It looks like our old dorm needs remodeling. The developer will tear the building down next month,"

"Well, it's kinda sad but it's not like there's anything memorable about it. I mean, heck, you should see my team's accommodation! The rooms are big and we partied each week." Junpei wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, "Blond chicks are da bomb."

Akihiko rolled his eyes and propped his head on his chin, "Speaking about our dorm, you still remember Arisato?"

The batter tsked and snorted, "The guy was a weird bastard. I swear he should've been in a mental ward, that friggin' emo. Good riddance, though."

"Hey, he was actually decent to me." Akihiko shook his head, frowning.

Crossing his arms, Junpei replied, "As if nodding and ignoring you by stuffing his ears with earphone is decent."

"At least he didn't throw temper tantrum like certain someone I know." The boxer huffed and retrieved a black sleeping mask, ready to welcome the oblivion. "Wanna visit the dorm later?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"Okay, good night."

"Night."

* * *

Their dorm remained the same.

Even as they walked around to the familiar city, passed the infamous Moonlight Bridge, reached the building which paint has been stripped down by weather and mold, gazed up at the closed and chained door, the dorm was still familiar to his young-adult eyes. They arrived at night, deposited their belongings to a hotel near Paulownia Mall and walked their way to the other side of this artificial island.

Junpei leaned against the tree outside their dorm, noticing that the neighborhood was silent and empty. Force of habit made him looked warily to the sides, expecting to see zombie-like humans roamed and sat around the pavement.

There was nobody there -of course- but something tugged at him from the dark. The air was solemn, heavy with lingering quietness. It was as if the city's liveliness was gone right after The Lost phenomenon left the city. Many people moved from Iwatodai that year, building new lives and fresh start outside. Including them.

They left Iwatodai right after graduation, going their separate paths and somehow happier that way. He was drafted straight into a pro baseball team during his college years, Akihiko continued to pave his fame into the world of boxing though he has yet to meet everyone else.

Well, life goes by, after all.

His life was exciting, filled with wild parties and heart-stopping matches that pumped adrenaline into his extremities. Strikes of victory landed him with enough money and chicks to a lifetime of comfort that was so different from his younger years. He enjoyed it.

And it would've stayed that way if only he hadn't bumped into Akihiko-senpai out of all people. It would've stayed that way if only he dismissed the bout of nostalgia as something that would pass with time. Because as they left the barren tree with the moonlight on their backs, they felt a motion as they walked away.

They looked up.

And Minato Arisato's empty gaze stared back at them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

*gnaws fingers* I hope you'll like this. Writing this chapter is bad for my heart. Thanks for reading, as always.

* * *

 **Blessed Messiah**

 **Chapter 2**

* * *

Junpei buried his face in his hands, releasing a tense breath that he held for so long. His body went through a full shudder that shook his core as they sat in front of the station, staring at nothingness. Even Akihiko was affected, with the way he closed his eyes and swallowed a mouthful of Mad Bull. Then he decided that it wasn't strong enough and reached for the cold beer.

His attention was half directed on his senior, and the other on the semblance of a ghost that his dead dorm mate produced. Arisato's gaze was fixed on them, except that the ghost hadn't been staring at them.

It was as if the ghost was spellbound.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit." He rocked back and forth, trying to keep himself from shivering. Pathetic.

Junpei had expected the ghost to be vengeful, to be so hauntingly demonic that justified the unnatural death of someone so distant.

Instead, the spectre had simply walked forward, agonizingly slow and head bowed, eyes half-lidded and trembled so convulsively. His pace was slow and the solemn air warped around him like a thick blanket as he walked as if he walked towards his funeral march.

Then Arisato lifted his head and his eyes were wide with death.

He still remembered that he shivered once and fell to his knees. Akihiko was better because he could grasp the tree trunk in time. And as they watched, the ghost flickered like a broken TV and vanished. But only a moment later, the spectre had appeared in front of the closed door and turned towards them.

It smiled a grieving smile to the sky outside and lolled his head to the side as they caught the shine of a gun's barrel. But what made it painful was that it wasn't the smile of a suicidal, deranged teen.

No, it was the smile of someone who had chosen his fate. And even though it wasn't the smile of someone with every option unrestrained and free, it was still a smile of someone who knew what the future will be.

It vanished again, before it repeated its funeral march, while they watched. And again. Again.

And thousand images of his post-mortem body entered Junpei's vision and he willed the images away. It wasn't the time to throw up like a cowardly seventeen years old who found Arisato's slack body first.

Because for once, this wasn't like the horror movies he had watched. Ghosts were supposed to be vicious. They were supposed to scare-jump everyone in the immediate vicinity. They were supposed to be horrendously malevolent. They did not relived their funeral march over and over again, like a separate fragment trapped in an endless rewind of a memory.

Junpei stood up shakily and laughed, the sound wheezed in his ears. "Think it's just a nightmare?"

Akihiko shook his head and stared into his empty can, eyes blazing with regret. "...We should've talked to him more. But nothing to be done, right? ...We should continue living and leave that...ghost alone. We should leave Arisato to rest. It's better this way."

It would be simpler that way.

* * *

But the next week, Junpei broke out from his vow to let it rest because something gnawed on his conscience that left him missing practice by practice. It irritated him because it wasn't like Arisato was his friend.

Yet, it gnawed on him.

Akihiko stayed in the next town over due to an upcoming match, so he was alone as he took his feet to the Headquarter of Kirijo Group. Because if there was anyone who had the dorm's key, it would be Mitsuru. They weren't that close although they used to live in the same dorm, though, with everyone losing contact and not keeping in touch for years.

Once he was admitted to the luxurious receiving room, he only had to wait for a few minutes before Mitsuru entered the room with the grace of a queen. She was accompanied with bodyguards on each side that she dismissed when she saw who the guest was.

She nodded, stiff and controlled that Junpei replied with a wry grin. They went silent after that, though Junpei started the conversation after he looked up from fiddling with his thumbs.

"Arisato, he... The dorm- err..." He touched the back of his neck, suddenly nervous for no reason although it was for his own peace of mind.

To his surprise, Mitsuru lowered her head and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. She glanced away and took a deep breath before she looked at him with a firm, unchallenged gaze. But the rim of red around his eyes called out her bluff.

"...I thought that destroying the dorm would let it rest." Mitsuru began, her voice steady. It was a reasonable enough for a reason. "I don't know what it is. Arisato's death was unnatural but the police investigation hadn't reveal anything. No illness, no wounds, no stolen things, no coagulations, no heart failure, no skin discoloration, even his body wasn't damaged at all. Nothing, Iori."

The now-adult woman in front of his eyes lowered her head and struggled against tears, "It was as if he just saw it fit to leave."

Junpei didn't know what to do with a crying woman, so he panicked and grabbed the closest tissue he could reach. Mitsuru accepted it with a small smile, emotions tightly reined under the cool facade of the President of a multinational company.

"I don't recall you as the person who would be curious over a matter like this, Arisato and you were not even on speaking term."

He chuckled quietly, trying to reciprocate Mitsuru's effort to lighten the current atmosphere. "I punched the guy once, what to expect?"

Then, Mitsuru's face changed and contorted into a blank expression. "A fight? No, I don't think you ever got into any fight. I would remember, because I was the Student Council President."

Junpei frowned. He didn't even remember his high school years correctly. Maybe he really was more stupid than he thought.

"Oh yeah, I'm here for the dorm's key. Do you still have it?"

Mitsuru arched her eyebrows, a question hanging from her mouth. "For what?"

He only rolled his eyes, trying to come up with another discreet reason. "Nostalgia, duh. Let's just say that I'm having mid-life crisis."

A smile formed on Mitsuru's face, though she only stared at her hands. "Yes, I still keep the dorm's key." She sighed as she stood up and retrieved something from a small, lacquered wooden drawer, presenting a set of keys and dropping them into Junpei's waiting palms.

They walked together to the front desk and she shook Junpei's hands in a business manner. "I have no regards about the keys, you can keep them because the dorm itself will be gone next month."

Her chiseled face turned solemn, "...If you meet it again, just ignore it. The least thing we can give it is some space."

Perhaps, it deserved some privacy.

Her face fell, "It's mostly harmless. Please... just let it be."

Mitsuru covered her eyes with another tissue and this time, Junpei was polite enough to look away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**... I really should update Shadowbuster...

Edit on 16/06/2017 for better grammar and some edited scenes.

* * *

 **Blessed Messiah**

 **Chapter 3**

* * *

He contemplated going inside, twisting and turning the set of keys with nimble hands. Junpei paced around, huffing and sighing until he groaned in frustration in front of a God-forsaken dormitory. He guessed that the word 'haunted' fitted the old building so well, what with the elegance only adding up to the creepiness of the building.

To enter or not to enter.

Not that he was a coward, mind you.

"Junpei... san?"

He yelped, clutching hard at his chest and darted backward with the speed of a short-distance runner. He hid behind the tree just outside the dorm and slowly, very slowly, glanced up at the person who dared enough to question his bravery.

"Ken." He deadpanned, thumping his head on the tree trunk while simultaneously stepping out from the shade. The younger man laughed at his antics and shook his unruly head with amused mirth. Junpei hated the fact that he had to glance up to look at Ken when he used to mock the kid's height. He swore that Ken actually looked like the kid could outgrow even Aragaki-senpai.

And apparently, Ken followed his line of thought because he smirked victoriously and swooped down to pull him into a one-armed hug. The tall brat pounded his shoulder, grinning widely and Junpei reluctantly patted his broad shoulder back.

A few seconds later, Ken finally stopped suffocating him and let him breath. "It's good to see you. Has it really been 7 years?"

"You got tall, kiddo. Guess all those glasses of milk paid off, right?" Junpei said with a proud smile.

Ken chuckled, raising his hand to adjust the frameless beige-coloured glasses perched on his nose. "I'm lactose intolerant, senpai." He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. That was when Junpei noticed the yellow armband pinned on his standard Gekkoukan High School uniform's left bicep.

Junpei's eyebrows shot up, "You even made it into the Student Council! Congrats!"

The brat huffed with an ill-suffering face and said, "You have no idea. I can barely rest nowadays. I don't know how Mitsuru-senpai did that."

"Don't bother. She's a damn super woman." Junpei felt something missing, though. Something that always tagged along Ken...

"Oh! That's it! Where's Koro-chan?"

To which his question only brought a sad smile on Ken's face. "The old dog died last winter. He has some pups and I'm taking care of one now. We can see her later." Again, for his credit, Ken regarded him with a curious look and said,

"Right, so what brings you to the town?"

Junpei grinned, and he wondered how it looked to Ken. The way it felt to him was more like a badly-hidden grimace and judging from the frown on Ken's pubescent features, he really was never a good actor.

Ken was closer to him than the rest of his dorm mates and he was never that good at hiding his emotions. They connected through their similar love of action figures. It was him who introduced Ken to his favourite games and tokusatsu movies aside from Featherman but the kid was prudent about it. He was just glad that the kid seemed like he has loosen up enough during the years. It was good on him.

Junpei shrugged faintly, "Saw a pamphlet on our dorm's remodeling. Akihiko-senpai told me about it, so I just came by to check. Then..."

There was an air of understanding around Ken. "You've seen it, then."

"What do you think, about it?"

Ken paused, then inclined his head towards the rain-beaten paveway. "It's... just a fragment, I guess. Whatever it is. Supernatural or not. You do know that I'm not one to believe things like that, Junpei-san but ultimately, it's harmless." He rasped.

Funny, even Mitsuru said the same thing.

"Just..." Ken paused again, casting his gaze towards the locked door. "We should let it be. And focus on the future," he murmured before Junpei could add his own two cents.

The Student Council President shrugged and gave Junpei a small smile, "I'm about to visit Yukari-san, wanna come?"

He looked back at the mold-covered building. He came back here in this city in part of a mere coincidence and that meant his impromptu reunion with his friends and the remnant of his dead dorm mate was one coincidence after coincidence, too. So perhaps, it was better if he left it at that. It wasn't his business.

Maybe.

* * *

They caught her during her short break. Yukari was fanning herself and waving tiredly at them while a harried-looking makeup artist was hovering around her. Inwardly, he shuddered at the sheer amount of overdone frills and girlishness but he can admit that she looked comfortable in that costume. Her ridiculous white frilly costume flowed around her figure while her pink wig was styled into long twin tails encased in white ribbons.

"It's nice to see you around the town, Yukari-senpai. What are you filming on?" Ken began first. He leaned on one of the railings and took a can of drink from his backpack.

Yukari gratefully popped open the can and drank, careful not to ruin the beautiful dress. "You're a lifesaver, Ken. And I'm filming for the live action version of a popular magical girl series. Hey, even Stupei's here," Yukari giggled. Junpei did tried to be the more mature one, but he can't help but quipped loudly.

"Even scaredy cat Yuka-tan is here," to which Yukari glowered a bit and Junpei stuck out his tongue childishly.

Yukari became snappish, "Geez, you're gonna start a game of quip here?"

To which Junpei waggled his eyebrows playfully. "Dude, that's me."

Ken laughed into his drink and his shoulder shook with mirth. "You really haven't changed, Junpei-san."

A sigh came from the actress, "You're still the ordinary ol' Junpei. Isn't it about time you evolved into someone cooler?"

"Hey! I'm cool enough!"

"Nuh-uh. Not happening anytime soon, right, Ken?"

"Hear, hear."

They even had the gall to toast. He was stuck with shitty dorm mates. Revenge will be sweet.

The two immediately became wary when an evil glint reached Junpei's eyes. "Y'know, Yuka-tan-"

He drawled. "-I still remember that _someone_ shrieked like a goddamn banshee when she heard a door creak and clung to me for dear life. While this brat here-" he caught Ken in a headlock. Ken tried to escape him, but he wasn't planning to let him go anytime soon. "-Once upon a time asked me to accompany him sneaking in to a cinema to watch Feather- Mmph!"

Ken succesfully blocked his mouth and Yukari glared with all her might. Their attempts were almost cute.

"I would vehemently deny that I clung to you for dear life, Stupei!"

"And I've never ask you to accompany me watching Featherman Victory! ...I-I mean, uh, yeah. I don't care. I don't even watch that show!"

"No! It was during the Film Festival, Ken. I remember that you asked me to watch it since you're too embarrassed to go alone."

Ken frowned. "...No, actually I asked Arisato-san to go with me."

"Ha! You admit watching that! ...Wait, wait. He agreed to go with you? That insufferable emo?"

"Yeah..."

This time, Yukari looked at Junpei with confused eyes. Even Ken eyed him as if there was something wrong with him. But isn't everyone?

His memory confused him.

* * *

 _Click._

This was crazy. He was getting crazy.

 _Thud._

The rusty chain fell to the broken patch of cement with a loud sound and Junpei watched in wary mesmerism that the key actually worked. Something made him not wanting to go inside, but he was in too deep to ignore this now. Things didn't make any sense, it was confusing and he'd be damned if he tried to shift it into something his simple mind could understand.

But he needed this. Needed this clarification, this sense of foreboding that didn't have anything to do with being buddies with Arisato or not. He might be stupid, but anyone with eyes could **fucking** see that something was wrong. He could've ignored that nagging voice in the back of his mind, but for that to actually happened thrice was a friggin' big clue that those were no coincidences.

Their memories were a jumbled and confused mess.

He tried to fumble with the door knob, but once his fingers touched the metal, goosebumps raised on his arms. Junpei had to fought the scalding chill that erupted suddenly and he gritted his teeth at the onslaught of pure dread he felt on his fingertips.

Somehow, he felt that he'd be damned if he left it alone.

A strong gust of wind flushed warmth from his body, charging the air that trembled around him with iciness that surpassed the cool autumn night. Junpei knew that he should've come here in the morning or ask some of his dorm mates to come here, but he wanted to see that fragment once again though he didn't know for what.

Maybe he wanted to gloat that at least he was still alive. Maybe he wanted to see that wretched face of utter despair. Maybe it was another thing altogether.

Call him crazy, he knew it could've been true.

And with another forced smash, the old wooden door was pushed open so hard that Junpei fell gracelessly on the frayed-ended carpet that was once a rich red. He coughed, clearing his lungs from the dust that permeated around the air and pulling himself up.

"Oww, damn I scratched my knee." He said aloud and looked up.

The scene that greeted him took his breath away. The empty hallway was a dingy, dark cleared space that was their common room. The furnitures were gone, sold away as they had no other purpose to serve and for once, Junpei let his jaw gaped open at the change. No wonder Mitsuru wanted to remodel it, since the interior looked like an abandoned haunted mansion more than the home he associated with his high school years instead.

It was so dark that he couldn't see much, so Junpei pulled up his phone and turned on the flashlight. As fluorescent light filled the room, he noted that the clock on his phone showed that it was three minutes to midnight. He smirked, wondering what that scaredy cat's reaction would be if she accompanied him here.

Junpei shrugged, deciding that Yukari would never go to any haunted place even if someone paid her. She would rather sleep with one eye open than touch anything scary with a ten-feet pole.

His amusement forgotten, Junpei took a deep breath. Mentally preparing himself for Arisato's fragment, if it ever appear. He would hope not, but then his night exploration would be meaningless.

It was only for the sake of curiosity, nothing else.

Junpei stepped back as a misty form seeped into the empty hallway from the door. It still took his breath away, so he leaned on the wall nearest from the entrance. The misty shape grew, forming another shape entirely and Junpei couldn't look away. It changed, revealing something with human-like quality in a way that ghosts in movies doesn't.

But it wasn't scary, nor it made Junpei wanted to run away. Instead, the figure looked as if it absorbed colour as it entered the dorm. The dark blue of its hair and the silver of its eyes and the black of its clothes transformed into something so alike Arisato. It was transparent, since Junpei could still see the time-worn carpet beneath its feet.

The fragment floated forward, not touching the floor but it looked like it didn't even noticed that it _floated_. Instead, it stood still. It stood long enough to make Junpei noticed that it has the gun from last week in one hand. He found that held his breath and let it out in a shaky exhale, suddenly unsure if he should leave or not.

Junpei wondered whether it was about to shoot it own head. But before he could bolt to his escape, the fragment moved-

-and the world was drenched in a horrible mess of nightmare.

A sick flood of sensations hit him. Emotions and sounds and light and colours and gravity struck him as Junpei staggered. He fell backward on the carpet and blood rushed to his ears. His pupils were blown wide, breath came in short pants and it was another second later when he noticed that he was curled up against the wall with his hands on his hair.

Junpei thought that the unstoppable shaking of his shoulders might've changed into sobbing instead, but he just wanted to sit there, trying to come to terms with what he had seen, with what he had heard.

With what he had witnessed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**

This chapter is three-pages long in Word *wince* I'm sorry for the shortness but this is the best I could do in weekday. The next chapter will be a few days later, depends on how fast I can update my other long-since-opened fic. Have to ask, though. What kind of ending do you want? Going by the original song this fic is based on, it'll be, of course, bad ending. Just a heads up^^

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 **Blessed Messiah**

* * *

It must've been a mistake. There was no way that abomination was real.

Yet, even as he tried to convince himself, Junpei knew that the bone-deep ache that gripped him so readily was too real for a nightmare. A nightmare which was like an endless pantomime of false memory. It must've been false, because he knew that he wouldn't accept anything else.

So why did his body wouldn't stop trembling?

The vision forcibly settled itself in the forefront of his mind like a chain. Even when he closed his eyes, the cold feeling that seeped from the tips of his fingers to his knuckles wouldn't stop. Junpei pressed his palms into his eyes and tried to erase the dreadful sadness it brought him.

The haunted figure that appeared in place of that miserable fragment, the sharp contrast it brought to the silver moonlight around it... Without him noticing, his body has already slumped onto the wall to support the weight of his realization, of who the figure that was standing so still as if the world itself has just stopped gravitating.

It was Arisato, and yet, maybe it wasn't.

It was no different from who Junpei had last seen the night the bastard died, except that it was like a paler version of him. With dark hair blacker than what black could be and the smell of death clinging to it like a second skin. It cradled something bundled in a dark clothes with utmost care, as if afraid that something unknown would harm it.

But this... This vision wouldn't have been possible! Arisato was dead like a common man, Junpei was there with the rest of his dorm mates as the casket went down six feet under the ground. Arisato was dead. He wasn't supposed to be here, or anywhere on the surface of earth.

...Maybe it was true that it was just a ghost. Something that was told from time to time as stories between friends. Like the result of an overactive imagination and make-believe that would disappear if people ignore it often enough.

It stood in the middle of an immense, gilded cage surrounded by darkness. The cage was polished black, icy against his palms. The very air of the place itself was tainted with hopelessness and Junpei's breath came out with a strangled cry as it looked at the bundled figure with deprived, purest despair. The expression shifted into one of resigned acceptance.

Then, as if it was an afterthought, it mangled a broken smile into its human-like face.

"I won't leave you alone,"

But the words weren't speak aloud, though its mouth moved. The words echoed in Junpei's head like a linked thought instead. There was a wistful quality to its young voice, but maybe it only sounded so young because it was the first time Junpei has heard Arisato's voice in seven long years.

Junpei tried, raising his voice. "W-Who are you?! "

But the thing that resembled Arisato didn't hear him and he only watched as it sunk to its knees, hugging the bundle as if it to fight the suffocating cold that permeated around the atmosphere. Its face fell like crumpled paper and it sobbed, shaking like a fallen leaf in that enclosed space.

"I will stay here, so please don't return to their world again."

Junpei's throat was clogged with horror and he couldn't breath, the foreign fear quickened his throbbing heartbeat. It was twisted to see someone he barely know suffered so much yet he knew that it was just a nightmare.

"Stop this!"

But it wouldn't stop. It only stood up with renewed determination and took another shaky breath. Junpei wanted this to end- Fuck it, this was sick and he wanted to deny what he has seen, because it was so much easier to hate Arisato for showing him something like this. Whatever lunacy or trick he was in should end sooner or later.

But then, it does.

Wherever they were in has changed abruptly, as if abiding his wish. The gilded cage they were in spread into a building steeped in blood. A full moon has begun turning everything around them a sickly green, instead of a natural pale silver. The ruined building was dirty with dust and caked blood, giving way to only a barren wasteland. Fragile pillars towered over them, intertwined with carved stones that rose to support a ceiling that was now lost in the void. The green moonlight cast morose, sorrowful shadows through the strange place.

Then, his line of vision was surrounded by light.

The thing that looked like Arisato grew, the human-like form melting into darkened flesh. Fragile limbs hugged by threads darker than ink and thinner that spider's thread. But it wasn't just its wrists, even its body was littered with them. Its sobs has stopped but the trembling hasn't, giving it the appearance of a neglected child.

The changing shadows fluctuated and danced around the figure, colouring everything that the light touched with flashes of black and white. It was inhuman.

Still, it looked up to the nothingness with something akin to resignation. It shook its head twice, and smiled a genuine, though pained, smile. And he knew that he would never forget that face. That it would show up in his dreams, in the ones where it was holding the darkened sky on its shoulder until every bone in his body snapped.

And he could only watch as two pairs of great, black wings sparkled within the darkness. He was speechless as Arisato's form changed, transformed and molded into something he had never seen-

-Into the features of a lonely, forsaken God.

* * *

When the vision ended, it made him wonder what he looked like afterwards, when his body lost its strength and tremor ran through his limbs or when he didn't even bother to stand up anymore or when he just wanted a touch of reality to anchor him. He stayed there, curled up so long until the first tint of daybreak touched the empty room.

Then, he tucked his head down and couldn't lift it up again. His eyes were wet.

* * *

Junpei was aware he was obsessed.

He knew he would ended up opening the rusted front door again and again, watching as the empty first floor would transform into a barren wasteland where Arisato's fragment would sprout those pure black wings that seemed to absorb the green moonlight, come midnight. He grew acquainted with the solemn air, with the mysterious place they were in, with utter feeling of abandonment etched in the fragment's face and he wanted to know _more._

How could his other dorm mates told him to ignore this?

It drew him in, it made him felt a tingle of familiarity that led to nowhere, it was a piece of something that was larger than life itself. It was more than a melancholic atmosphere he cannot change, only watch. It was more than a stranger he barely knew with dark blue hair and silver eyes-

-This broken, shattered fragment was all that was left from a stranger named Arisato.

And something changed.

Tonight was the first time he braved on and climbed to the second floor. Junpei's senses flared, expanding within each exhale he took as he slowly took another step.

Up. Up. Up.

The creak of abused wooden staircase was loud against the stillness and his own consciousness. The mold that reached the far edge of the handrail was stark green on what used to be brown paint. The pile of toadstools on the corner of the staircase where a rat hole was nearby grew disgustingly as it filled whatever space that was damp enough for its spores to land on and spread.

Remains of a dead rat greeted him as he touched the final staircase, Junpei only wrinkled his nose and stepped aside it, noting that the seating room that connected the second floor to the stairs that led to the third floor was literally in the state of total ruins after years of not visiting.

It was sad to see the destruction, especially since he spent many late hours there. Gaming on and snacking as his pastime, teasing Yuka-tan's famous prudishness while his buddy was leaning over, trying to nudge his arm so he failed the stages.

Junpei blinked.

Tsking quietly, he squatted over and inspected the old machine. The vending machines were broken in. The fractured glass made a smattering of tiny pieces as the light bulb flickered on and off, the cable was done in by rain water and hungry rodents. Junpei stood up and walked to his old room, expecting it to be the same as he left it.

What he forgot was that after they moved out, the dorm was used for the first few years until Gekkoukan High School announced that it would have another dorm built next to the school, so typically their old dorm was an empty place after that.

It felt weird to see his old room so bare, he used to hang naughty posters on the wall that got him in trouble with the former Student Council President and threw dirty shirt wherever it landed because he was too lazy to clean up. Well, in a way he still was.

Satisfied, he closed the door and was about to move on to the first floor's staircase. Until something tugged at him.

Junpei rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes were drawn to the last door to the right. Straight on the door of someone so isolated and distant.

...Should he?

That little thought gnawed on him and he didn't like this. It only started with a bout of curiosity. Nothing more, nothing less. Once he return to the States, he was going to compete in a major league, with his team's adoring fans cheering on and girls waiting just outside their quarter, begging for photographs and phone numbers.

He had nothing in Japan anymore. Who did he owe beyond that? He reached this point by his own strength, by his own skills and nothing to back him up. And obviously, he owe nothing to Arisato. He didn't have to come here anymore.

So why did his thoughts insisted he did?

Exhaling another breath, Junpei gave up and moved forward slowly. Not pausing because he knew that he would go back once he do. Besides, this place was not his stage. There was no one to disappoint and no ball to save, he was alone.

Unbeknownst to him, he already stood in front of Arisato's room. He stalled, touching the frail doorknob with hesitant fingers. It was cold, a result of years upon years of being exposed to elements as the room itself was the closest to the windows, which now laid broken and useless.

He tried to push the door open, but something unseen blocked his effort. Junpei thought that maybe it was a sign that his exploration has to stop there or risk something he didn't know, so he let his fingers off from the steel doorknob.

What shocked him was when a black thread connected his wrist to the knob.

"What?!"

Suddenly, he didn't want to know.

He didn't want to know why. He didn't want to know why. This was beyond him. It scared the shit out of him. Something terrible has happened there. Something unspeakably inhuman has been done there. Arisato's death was unnatural and maybe it was the truth that ghosts do exist to lead people to hell.

Junpei didn't want to know.

But he had to. He _had_ to know.

A strong compulsion drove his hands forward as an unexpected surge of dread took hold in his chest. With icy fingers, he latched his trembling digits to the knob and gave it a shaking twist.

He pushed the Pandora's Box open.


	5. Chapter 5

**Blessed Messiah**

 **Chapter 5**

* * *

He didn't know what he would see when the doorknob turned to let him in, but it was definitely the last thing he ever expected.

The world darkened into a dreary hue of tainted green, taking his breath with him when the sudden onslaught of isolation attacked him from all side. Junpei thought he could see the bright outline of the celestial bodies from the windows, and he couldn't see the moldy, dusty floor beneath his soles because the ground looked as if it was swallowed completely by the silhouette.

When he lifted his head, the shifting light landed on something more ephemeral than the moon itself. The being stood still in the middle of the room, tipping its human-like head languidly to greet the moon outside. Its side profile was a thin, blurry line as dark tendrils surrounded it that drowned and enveloped the small space. The shadows mystified its features, the transient flickers of light gave way to the sight that eventually entered his vision.

The being enveloped the room with its deathly atmosphere, encased in a suit blacker than the darkest night. It was draped in a tattered cloak from head to toe, worn and torn with time as the strong set of shoulders were protected in iron lamellar pouldrons. White-gloved fingers gripped the hilt of a massive steel broadsword, the gleaming tip digging sharply into the broken floor. Its faceless head was hidden by a cold case of silvery iron, with monstrous set of fangs as molars. The thing looked like a hunter that would kill everything that was set on its path.

And the wings-

-The wings were enormous, large enough to reach the other side of the wall. Dark caskets so fine they could've been mistaken for obsidian gemstone instead. Each caskets were attached to a chain, rattling softly like bells with the gravity of soothing hum of power that reverberated throughout the sealed room. It contrasted greatly with the despair he felt around the abandoned dorm and the barely-concealed malice he could feel from the being.

It was like staring directly into the face of a Death God.

Junpei felt his heart pounded harshly, pumping adrenaline into his already fraying nerves. The... The being was still facing towards the full moon, but it wasn't like he could escape and flee away. He was rooted to the spot, watching the waxing and the waning of Earth's natural satellite with a sick sense of wonder that he was still alive.

He tried to move his legs, to go back to the waking world but he heard an inhuman growl from the monstrous being and suddenly, it stood tall over him, dwarfing his figure easily. It bore its muscular body on steel legs and floated, hovering over him for a time. Its empty, dead eye sockets were suddenly filled with drops of liquid golden that contrasted its faceless features.

Junpei wondered if he would live to see the next morning.

"Thanatos."

And suddenly, the world lost its focus around him and Junpei stood within the deep darkness, with Arisato's ghost standing before him.

The voice was so _young,_ so unbearably different from what he remembered. But it has been seven years and the idea of witnessing something like this was outside the realm of rationality. It was funny how the brain would perceived an illusion. He was finally, finally insane.

"Jun...pei?" The voice wavered.

He turned to face the ghost-memory of his illusion and Arisato was looking at him with eyes as silver as the moon, as silver as the eyes that glazed over when Junpei found the body on the morning he died. And the ghost retreated back a few steps, falling deeper within the shadow that encompassed the room.

"How...? What are you doing here?"

He wanted the ghost to go away. This was so unreal. He could see the solid form, he could hear the young voice, he could feel the slight tugging at his memories of things that were never there to begin with. Junpei felt like his lungs has collapsed and something sank in his chest. He hadn't anticipated that and he remained still on his side, trying to gain his voice back.

And to his horror, he felt tears ran freely to his cheeks.

Junpei was startled when he got a smile in response and he wiped his face furiously. But it wasn't like the smile of a distant and untouchable dorm mate he remembered back then. It wasn't the same smile that held so many silence that was used to hid lies and truths, so unreadable that he could only say that the smile he remembered was the smile of a dead, immovable object instead.

This smile was one of nostalgia, laden with hints of secrets that he might feel not ready to accept yet. "You look weird with hair." It stated, but not moving any closer to him from where he stood. Maybe it was for the best, because he wasn't ready for the words it spoke next.

The apparition shook its head. "To think that you, of all people, could breach the barrier... I must be getting rusty."

Maybe he was getting senile, maybe he was so stressed out by his baseball matches that he was having a nutcase conversation with a ghost. Next time, he'll sign a form to get admitted to a mental ward. "What are you? How can you talk? Y-you died! I found your b-body here! And what the fuck is that wispy ghost thing below? Fuck it, I **must** be crazy."

His question went unanswered as Arisato watched him with wide, unblinking eyes. His expression froze that it made Junpei's urge to turn his back went stronger in each passing seconds. "What happened... that day?" It asked softly.

This time, his grimace from the slightest mention of that day was smaller, and he thought that at least he owed something to the ghost, if only just to retell his own memory. Perhaps, the conscious ghost was still here in the waking world because of the strong imprint the emotions has on this place. They were the result of the intense emotions branded in the past, not something that existed right here and now. At least, that was what he thought, because the Arisato that stood in front of his eyes didn't withheld the same oppressing despair he saw in the fragment many nights ago.

"That was a long time ago, 's not like I'd remember much." And it was the truth.

Pale face with the pallor of death smiled, agreeing with a nod. "Yes, it has. It seemed like it happened a lifetime ago, to someone else. Sorry, it's just that the facts hadn't hit me yet." Arisato said mirthlessly.

"That's my line, you asshat!" Junpei said aggressively. "It's not everyday you speak to the dead."

"So... It was true. I died, huh." Arisato said calmly, with the hint of small amusement behind his words. "I didn't realize that, actually. By the time I know it, I was here and there was no one else but the two of us. How did you get here?"

He thought of the dark thread that suddenly appeared on his wrist and he held up his arm. Junpei watched as Arisato's death-like face went through a series of complex expression that seemed to born and die in fleeting moments.

In the end, the shade only shook his head in disbelief. "No... It can't be. It must've been only because I'm getting weaker."

"If so, why don't you just stop?" Junpei blurted out, and quickly felt the acid on his tongue. He didn't know why.

Then, almost instantly, the shape of the beast shifted again, moving to force its way against the chains that bound it. Arisato faced the thing and ran soothing hands against its torso, light shimmering and fading quickly. The thing growled and something like pain flickered on Arisato's face, but he kept on feeding the light onto the monstrous beast. It was when he noticed that the light came from darkening threads that littered Arisato's body, strewn and laying limply on the floor.

"It will be all right," The shade whispered faintly, when Junpei had looked away and stood closer to the door. Junpei paused and stared at him. The moon overhead was the only source of light as Arisato reached the thing's masked face. He was smiling and closing his eyes.

It was a sight to behold.

There was an immediate blaze of power, awakening and circling the room as it overlaid the moon's weak shine. Junpei retreated back at the sullen blue glow, shocked. The light danced on a nameless tune, intertwining and overflowing as the glow took on the form of a shapeless flame, burning and fading so quickly that it blinked in and out of existence in mere seconds.

The weight of the silence after that was so heavy that Junpei couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Could only stand there and wait for everything to end.

"W-What is that thing?" He managed to say as the light went out like doused fire.

The liquid golden eyes of that thing were snuffed out. Its great, beastly body went slack as it continued to hover above them. Arisato turned to him and gave him a smile that he didn't want to look at. He didn't want to be anywhere close to anyone who smiled so grimly like that, even if it was a ghost.

"...My prisoner. And I am its guardian."

Junpei held back the unbearable temptation to swear. What kind of fucked-up answer was that?

"W-What happened? Why are you here? What's going on?!" Junpei swallowed the panicked stream of questions growing in his tongue.

"No." Arisato said firmly, holding his stance. "No questions about this."

"ARISATO, ANSWER ME!" Junpei exploded, he wanted to punch something so badly.

The shade resolutely said, "No, Junpei."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly and paced across the small space. He found a broken chair in the corner of the room and kicked it harshly, splinters of wood pieces landed on the floor. The shade only stood there silently, the solid frame seemingly transient in the dark.

"The guardian is not a man, Junpei. The guardian is just a means, a method of protecting something more powerful and ancient than humanity itself. Something that must go on even if the man behind it has died." Arisato's eyes turned to him and the solemnity in them struck him to the core.

In the darkness, the black, almost-obsidian caskets seemed to glow brighter. The caskets were a striking contrast to the monstrously dark, faceless entity they were attached to. It was strange how something so monstrous were held back only with fragile chains that could snap anytime.

Arisato's hands caressed the eight caskets as he slowly walked around the room, barefoot. And even though it was dark, he could see that the back of Arisato's hands were scarred, just like the state of the obsidian caskets. They must've been gleaming silver once upon a time. Now, though, the covers were so worn out that they looked like they wouldn't hold up.

"I'm sorry, for not being able to hold it together." The tips of the shade's scarred fingers ran over each caskets softly, circling the sleeping beast. Each obsidian caskets depicted the same feature, of a robed figure holding a sword close to its chest with a knight-like pose. Then, the dark-haired teen withdrew himself from the thing's side, his back vulnerably open to Junpei as black threads surrounded his body.

"What are those caskets? D-don't tell me that those are filled with corpses," Junpei's voice shook with anxiousness. Arisato turned around to find Junpei, silver eyes zeroing in on him. But instead of an answer, the shade only smiled and retreated back to the darkness.

"I heard once-" the faint voice was haunting the room, echoing with the silence. "The story of a chosen one heralded by many. He was well-loved by his companions. Undefeated, they had conquered wars and barren wasteland alike. But what history forgets- is that he didn't win the war alone, that many of his companions suffered from the war."

Junpei frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but he found that he couldn't.

"...History wouldn't retell that the chosen one was just one person who did what he had to do to protect his companions. That he had to be the strong one who would make the world a safer place. History wouldn't retell that he was not infallible."

Junpei lifted his head to say as much to Arisato, whose voice has grown fainter by the moment-

And found himself standing in a broken, beaten room in the abandoned dorm. The dark midnight has passed.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Two fanfics update in one week is hellish, let me tell you. Thank god for Tumblr and small blessings (well, hello there, readers).

Thanks for reading^^


	6. Chapter 6

**Blessed Messiah**

 **Chapter 6**

* * *

Mitsuru opened her eyes to the sound of rain.

Small drops of water slapped the windows and the cemented walls from outside, forming a calming symphony to her tired mind. Scarlet eyes slowly took in the room she was in, noting faintly that she has stayed another night in her vast office and the dawn has arrived, casting its azure glow around the dark room as the sun hid behind the clouds to let the rain thrive on. The fragrant aroma of freshly-brewed coffee that was probably delivered by her secretary wafted along the moist scent of rain and she inhaled it gratefully as she found it soothing.

Eventually, after the rain receded knowing that she probably wouldn't get any rest again today, Mitsuru sat up and headed to a small bathroom adjacent to her office. She tidied herself up and sat on the straight-backed chair as she scanned the documents she has yet to finish.

A sense of familiarity was tingling in the humid air and in every move she made, in every action she took. Mitsuru signed the documents she has read and agreed upon, spreading the wingspan of the company with every contract she made and tirelessly paved her way as the papers decreased bit by bit.

But if she paused briefly on a document that contained the contract with the company that would tear down an old, beaten dorm... Well, it wasn't like anyone was there to witness it.

There was something about the dorm that made a cold feeling crawl incessantly within her, from the extremities of her toes to the tips of her fingers. As if it was too difficult to breath and there was a lack of air around her. There was a yearning so deep that it wouldn't make any sense if she tried to put it into words. She yearned for something that she didn't even know what shape it took in because every single thing that connected her memories about it was like a blurry mosaic.

The fact that it branched from a name that was foreign to her yet too familiar at the same time was something she acknowledged a long time ago. That name has never came up after her graduation, and her subsequent efforts to inherit the mass fortune of Kirijo Group's empire. But then, like a storm, the arrival of her old dorm mates held down the thin vapor unreachable by her power alone into something she could connect to a name and a face.

It was just a name, but it was connected to feelings of bone-deep sadness and exhaustion within her. Feelings that has no place in the life of someone who was fated to stand on the pinnacle of power. But they refused to be buried down so they would never came up again, all tangled up and clung to her core like a spider's thread.

It was foolish. It was illogical. That name was the cause of it, but it wasn't the end of it. On the other hand, more things came up the more she touched upon it. It was like she could reach it with her fingertips if she tried hard enough.

There were moments of disorientating clarity, where she could see that it was different from what she remembered, And it scared Mitsuru that _something_ has happened to her memories- what, who, when, where, why, how. She traced those spider's thread and if she closed her eyes and plugged her ears she could reach it.

The pro-

Then it went away. The woven threads would dissolve as if the Moirae Sisters themselves has decided to cut the strings, escaping into tiny particles of light and air before she could say it and hold it within her palms. The moments would submerge into the curtains of time and she would move on.

But the yearning never went away.

It was confusing to her, and it was worrying how much it affected Mitsuru without her notice. Sometimes, it persisted so much that Mitsuru has refused the offers to move into the main office in France or the many hands that has asked for her. The unexplainable sadness and exhaustion was even worser because it left her with days where she wasn't sure what they were telling her.

She only felt that she has to stay here, even if she must be swallowed by a sea of hellfire.

There was something about that name. Something that told her to not leave this city. Never. Otherwise that person would fade away like steam and slip through their fingers again-

Again?

Mitsuru frowned and leaned back, lifting up a hand to shadow her eyes from the rising sunlight outside. She found her thoughts dancing along the vague link, drifting around the conjectures that appeared around her grasp when a soft knock resounded through the room.

She glanced at the watch clasped gently around her wrist and found that it was already noon. She didn't realize what time it was and since when her paperworks has decreased so much that only a small pile of them was left on the exquisite wooden desk. Mitsuru honestly couldn't find any motivation to finish the pile, not with her mind so far away from the orderly framework it used to be.

The President called out from her seat, "Come in."

Mitsuru waited for the entry of her secretary as she sipped on her coffee, taking small comfort from the familiar taste on her tongue before she put the cup on its canister and looked up. But contrary to her expectation, the person who stood outside her office wasn't her secretary but a silver-haired young man wrapped in casual clothing.

Apparently, her surprise was evident in her eyes because the young man smiled in response and chuckled quietly as he approached her table.

"Surprised?"

Mitsuru shook her head and let out a small upturn of her lips. "I thought you were staying in the next town over for a match, Akihiko?"

Her yearmate sat down with a huff on the comfortable chair directly across her and answered, "Was. Did Junpei told you about that?"

"Yes. Also, he said that he wanted to visit our old dorm for nostalgic purpose and hasn't return the key since." Mitsuru nodded. "When did you return here?"

Akihiko played with his phone before he looked up, "Just yesterday. This is my second day in Iwatodai and thought I should greet you for once. Who knows when'll the next time we meet? It could've been years."

She agreed and expressed her sentiment. It truly has been too long since she saw familiar faces from her younger years. And now that she thought about it, this might be the first time her dorm mates gathered in this city since then.

They had changed and grown so much that sometimes Mitsuru felt that their high school years has never happened. It was as if she only went to sleep for a blink and woke up with what was laid in front of her eyes.

"What's up? You had this brooding face on so suddenly..." Akihiko's voice broke her from her reverie.

Mitsuru's field of vision glazed over for a bit as she cast her gaze down. There was a heavy pause that lingered around the atmosphere before Akihiko finally took the initiative and stood up, leaning forward slightly and he was mildly alarmed by the deep-settled exhaustion that emanated from this dormmate of his.

Akihiko knew her since middle school. Mitsuru was raised with expectations far heavier than most girls, and she has matured into someone with enough perseverance that befitted her station. She was not the type that would succumb to exhaustion.

But the red eyes that wore such weary countenance were unsettling.

Gloved fingers settled gently on her shoulder, grasping with a firm force that was aimed to keep her balance. "You should sleep more, Mitsuru. Your complexion is bad, you know. Aren't you tired from being overworked so much?"

And for a moment, Mitsuru was mulling something over as she kept her head down. After another pause, her hands were put on her lap as she looked up at Akihiko.

"No, I'm not. It's 's just that... Akihiko, do you-" Mitsuru trailed her eyes to the side and bit her lips.

"-Do you know what the phenomenon called a déjà vu is?"

Akihiko showed her a puzzled face before his wits caught up to him. "Err... That's the thing where you feel as if you've experienced something that has never happened before?"

He was right, of course. He wasn't as empty-headed as Junpei who was unlucky enough to took a summer class during their high school years because of Mitsuru's intention to improve his study. The worser thing was that she ended up registering Yukari and the leader even though their grades were far better than Junpei. Mitsuru only smiled mischievously after that.

...Now that he thought about it, were they really that familiar with each other back then?

...He didn't remember much...

Akihiko shook his head.

It wasn't important.

After all, those were things that didn't matter anymore now that they barely met again.

He continued to watch Mitsuru as she pushed herself up, walking to the wide glass windows that showcased the impressive bird's-eye view of the entire man made island while she clasped her hands behind her back. Mitsuru's profile stood with her back to him in absolute trust, her stray pieces of hair that rebelled out from the neat bun that hit the weak sunlight looked even more like dying embers when she freed her hair from its hold.

Mitsuru has lost her long hair, opting to keep its length up to her lower shoulder. She looked older and weaker, a far cry from the know-it-all and strict teenager that spent her adolescence to chase after her father's legacy. Junpei, too, was not the reckless, fiery brat he was once. Rather, he has matured a lot but not with losing that obstinate personality that truly made him, him. Though he has yet to meet the rest of his dorm mates, he was sure that change was not something they could avoid.

She has changed. They had changed. It was as if the people he knew before didn't exist. But he would not wonder what was the cause of it all. It was a question which he was sure that not even Mitsuru would want to utter.

Silence enveloped them. "It's funny," Akihiko said.

Mitsuru glanced back at him, still rooted to her spot. Her forehead was wrinkled in unvoiced query at the strange tone of his words. He would have laugh at the rare expression Mitsuru decided to show, but recently, it felt like they were just strangers to each other.

"The whole time after you said 'déjà vu', I can't shake the feeling that we are living someone else's life. It's like you're not Mitsuru at all."

Mitsuru was quiet for a mere moment before smiling and said, "Same here."

Akihiko looked up from the suddenness of Mitsuru's answer and the unexpected aspect of it. But as though she didn't notice it, Mitsuru returned to the scenery in front of their eyes.

But Akihiko was right. Her flashes of déjà vu' were better, far better than this strange existence reality had become. They were like lucid dreams that appeared whenever she didn't expect it.

She dreamt of encouraging shouts, or ones twisted with pained sorrow. She dreamt of careful fingers healing her wounds, of laughing voices tinted with vivid blue sky. They were dreams that made her chest tighten, but they were not nightmares.

Eventually, the clouds departed and the sun reached its magnificent arc, shining upon the city. And as if that moment was just a moment frozen in time, Mitsuru let out a sigh and returned to her desk. Realizing that the moment was over, Akihiko sat back and waited for Mitsuru to gather her bearings.

Mitsuru intertwined her slender fingers on the desk and asked, "Is it correct for me to assume that you and Iori are about to return to the States after greeting me?"

At Akihiko's affirmation, she continued, "Understood, I can directly purchase your tickets from here and for the night, both of you should stay in one of our accommodation."

Akihiko's face looked troubled but she smiled, "No, think nothing of it."

But Akihiko just glanced away and scratched his chin, sweating faintly. Mitsuru sensed something, but waited for the other party to open his mouth. Her patience paid off when Akihiko eventually looked up and said in an unsure voice.

"Actually, I was hoping you would know where he is. I can't contact him at all this past four days."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Sorry for being MIA, I suddenly have so much things to read thanks to someone that shan't be named and I was struck with an unhealthy case of procrastinating. On the other hand, the more I write this fic, the more despair I felt. Translating the lyrics was even worser and I swear that someone must've been chopping onions when this song was made.

And I'd personally drown anyone in a vat of coffee if they say otherwise.

Ranting over, thanks for reading^^ (and let me know what you think. I can't use telepathy, yo)


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

Hello, I get some motivation to write so here I am. Is it easier to read with longer paragraph? Or should I shorten it?

* * *

 **Blessed Messiah**

 **Chapter 7**

* * *

It was boundless, what humanity's limitless possibility could create.

She circled around the steel platform, breathless as she couldn't contain her amazement. Fuuka touched the immaculate, smooth surface of the decommissioned metal scraps with child-like wonder despite the obvious sign of disarray and age. The metal was heavy but lean, giving both protection and speed she couldn't expect from the scoop of newest technology. Supposedly, it would've need unimaginable amount of energy to move, if she wasn't wrong. But the scrap's circuit suggested that instead of going for a bulky source of energy that was installed outside the frame, it has a hollowed cavity in place of its left chest where the heart is. Probably for an internal battery which was something shorter than the length of her palm.

It was too advanced.

Tilting her head curiously, Fuuka tinkered the joints that gave a creaking sound as they were moved back and forth. She winced, examining the rust that collected around the parts of its body. The rough, dust like substance cluttered mostly around its limbs, forming a thick bronze-coloured lumps that showed how long it has been buried here, pushed to the back of this storage room like an unwanted remains. Fuuka understood why it has yet to be dismantled or recycled to be trigonal metal clips, though. It was too important, too rare, or something along the line of being a prized specimen of what humanity could achieve.

There was a certain beauty in its lifelessness. The scrap was humanoid, that much was clear from the body frame and its four limbs. There were round-shaped holes in place of its fingertips, which when Fuuka investigated further led to an intricate lines of cables as big as a bullet, if the remaining traces of gun powder were to be believed. Its head lolled to the side as if it was merely under a deep sleep. The peaceful posture and the loud silence of the store room were stationary, almost as if it was so otherworldly that it was untouched by time and space, but the cluttered lumps of rust proved her wrong. It made her wonder.

 _For what purpose were you produced? Why were you thrown away here_ _?_

The purpose of its production must've been to fulfill the necessity of whatever it was back then. Assault, violence, crowd control... She could guess, but she didn't want to imagine what had happened to require the production of an advanced assault machine. Fuuka shook her head bitterly, gazing up at the silent occupant of the storage room. Its half-lidded eyes shone a blue glow that illuminated the room, flickering like dying fireflies. It should've horrified her because for a moment, she wanted to reach out to what could've been a killing machine.

Still, she wanted to touch, to be connected. Because even though it was a mere metal scraps forgotten by its creator and time, there was an air of solemnity around it.

Like surrender, like devotion.

Her heart clenched, the air dissipated so suddenly that her lungs burned. But Fuuka stayed there, rooted in her place even as her knees wobbled and she fell in a crumbled heap. Her white lab coat swept around her like an imperfect half moon, her glasses touched the dusty ground while her head bowed. Somehow it grounded her, somehow it felt right and it got easier to breath as each second passed.

Eventually, strength returned to her legs and Fuuka pushed herself up with no care about the dirt or cobwebs that stained her coat. She tucked her stray long teal hair behind one ear as she smiled at the remnant of a history she didn't know of. It was difficult to leave because she wanted to know more, but Fuuka has to. The sunlight has faded from the only window that ventilated the room.

Fuuka left the metal scrap with the approaching darkness, useless pieces of junks, the broken machine propped up on its tattered metal bed and flickering blue fireflies that watched Fuuka as she closed the heavy security door with her Personnel ID.

"See you later, Seventh Generation." Fuuka whispered, leaning against the door when the machine was already locked out from her sight, like she didn't want any living being to hear it.

Fuuka took another breath and exhaled, stepped back once as she touched the fingerprint scanner. Steel rolling door descended after the scanner recognized her, putting the broken scrap further against the world. But even as she walked back to her lab, she didn't feel any better.

Maybe, it was because she didn't want to see it anymore.

* * *

When Fuuka arrived back at her lab, a note was posted on the notice board directly at the wall in front of her door. It was recent, she could tell from the way it was haphazardly stacked on top of the older, yellowing papers that people always forgot to update with newer information. Fuuka smiled slightly, reminded by a friend who always made people parted slightly to let her see the notice board easily, looking at how well she did on the exams each term. She was shorter than most people, so it was always an uphill battle.

Her friend was kind, he even put up with her bad cooking even though he always had to brush his teeth thrice afterward. He laughed it off so easily even though she felt guilty, but the promise of improvement and his encouragements were what made her practice more. Eventually, she decided to give up on her horrid cooking skill, choosing to pursue her innate talents instead. It was a major decision, one that shaped her future and she was grateful for that.

Fuuka remembered her immense gratitude. The feeling of wanting her friend to know how much she was grateful for being there, wanting him to know how much she valued his encouragements, wanting him to know that his words were what made her soldier on even years in the future, despite the tough competition to be accepted as a Kirijo Group's researchers or her parents' apathy. Working on her lab and inventing next-gen technology for the betterment of humanity were better than the crawling pressure of worthlessness. Anything would be better than that.

Feeling upbeat, she tore the small note from the notice board as she turned on the fluorescent lights of her lab. As light cleared what the rushed scrawls were about, the note turned out to be a series of number with a hasty "Call me!" written on it.

Fuuka didn't recognize the writing or the signature, and it might be a prank from her colleagues but something... prevented her from throwing the note to the waste bin. She decided to call it a mere whim. So, Fuuka wore a wireless headphone before she pulled up her phone, connecting the phone to the hands-free function on her creation. The Voice Input let her call the unknown number as she moved about, joining an electrode to the high-voltage currents.

A spark flew as the call connected, Fuuka hissed in pain as a male voice registered through the call.

 _"_ _Oh, thank god. I didn't think you'd call me this quick."_

The voice was panicked and relieved at the same time, it puzzled her. "Um... Who am I speaking with?" The other end cursed, and she heard car horns beeping noisily. For a second, Fuuka felt a beginning of worry crept up to her.

 _"_ _You don't recognize my voice? We were dorm mates for a few years, Fuuka."_ The male voice replied exasperatedly. But then, it took on a hasty tone as he asked,

 _"_ _Have Junpei visited you lately?"_

Junpei? ...Who?

She didn't realize that she said it out loud before the voice grunted, _"Junpei Iori, your dorm mate. I'm Akihiko Sanada, a year above you. Serously, Fuuka? What's wrong with you?"_

She wondered what. Her high school years seemed like a faraway memory buried under the sands of time. Fuuka tried to recall the name.

"Iori-kun...? Oh, is he the baseball club member who always hung around Takeba-san?" Come to think of it, she wasn't that familiar with Sanada-senpai, infamous as he was. Why would the Golden Boy of Gekkoukan called her by her first name? It wasn't like they were friends, even if they lived in the same dorm. After all, her only friends were Natsuki-chan and-

 _But I feel like if I'm with you, then I can change._

 _I've come to truly depend on you._

 _...I appreciate you._

As if she was plunged into a cold lake, Fuuka froze unaware of the sound, the noise and everything in her sight as black spots danced around her eyes. She tried to balance herself, holding unto the edge of a table closest to her, but it was as if invisible hands dragged her down to the deepest calm of silence. But Fuuka savoured the calling numbness, the utter powerless feeling that encased her so suddenly even as it horrified her. And eventually, Fuuka gave up her hold on her consciousness and slipped into weightlessness, watching with unfocused eyes as a darkening thread was wrapped snugly on her wrist.

* * *

Mitsuru didn't know why, but as she rode her jet black motorcycle around the city to help Akihiko searching for her junior, she pulled to a stop in front of Gekkoukan High's front gate and walked inside. The ground was easily twice the size Paulownia Mall, covering hectares of building and fields used by students to study and do extracurricular activities. The building was larger than the planned blueprint, with the addition of a new library at the east wing to support the students' learning.

It used to be a small clearing where a young persimmon tree grew, but it was cut down with the permission of an aging couple whose son died in a car accident. The tree was a tribute by the students he used to taught. Such sentimentality was eye-opening- that in place of his death, a new life sprouted and cherished with great care that it blossomed to watch over the students.

She remembered the day clearly, when a heartfelt letter was left at the school's front gate and arrived at her desk. The letter was accompanied with a packet of persimmon seed, which the student council decided to plant near the gate with utmost agreement of the student body.

Right now, she was standing at the centre of the walkway that led to the school entrance, where the students in charge of morning duty carried heavy watering cans to the budding trees. Some of them recognized her and gasped in awe, to which she only smiled back and nodded at them to let the students returned to their duty. For the younger generation, this place was just a facility to study. But for her, it was so much more than a piece of Kirijo family's history. It was a proof of their failure. It was a proof of their foolishness and empty dream. She remembered the explosion, the unsettling panic, the sudden darkness, the secrets of the bewitching hour...

It was their responsibility.

But when it ended so suddenly with no clue of how or why, only the firm voice that calmed her down stayed behind in the recess of her mind. It was something so compelling that she couldn't help but heeded it without any hesitation. Mitsuru was surprised with how much she trusted that voice at first, or how much the reassuring presence settled her nerves, but she never questioned it. Her memories were shattered.

They were vague and blurry. But there were things that always looked clearer than the others, the colour sharp and so vivid that Mitsuru would've believed that it happened right in front of her eyes.

The voice told her that it was alright, that it didn't matter. That there was nothing greater than the people who were important to it. That there was nothing to be regretful over. That they were not lambs walking blindly to the slaughter. That they were rams and ewes, leading the flock to the greener pastures under the bright sunlight.

Mitsuru trusted it, completely and absolutely.

Because it vowed that it would help her atone.

Bit by bit.

Even if her guilt was just out of responsibility.

And even though she wanted to cry the entire time, she desperately summoned a smile, and cradled the motorcycle key to her chest.

* * *

"You spend a lot of time protecting it,"

"It's not like I can do anything else."

"You're not hungry? Not tired?"

"...No, I don't think so. Can the deceased feel hungry, I wonder?"

"Want to try going out, feel the sun?"

"I can't,"

"Why?"

"Because there are people who are important to me."

"Are they your friends?"

Silence.

"They aren't?"

"They're... They're my family."

"Huh, good for you."

"...But that's why-"

"What?"

"Because they're my family, their betrayal stung more."


End file.
